Just What The Doctor Ordered
by Antonia-x
Summary: A collection of little Frieda/Michael tales - because they wouldn't leave me alone - that probably wont happen, but however. They also really have nothing to do with the title. Some relate to episodes this has been noted before them.
1. Chapter 1

**All Frieda/Michael centred and in no way relevant to reach other. **

**Can include spoilers for Boy Valentine, Girl Valentine.. Rebound & Tunnel Vision. **

**I do not own the characters of Holby City, that pleasure remains with the BBC. **

**- Anny, x.**

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><p><strong>1.<strong>

**Post Tunnel Vision.**

He'd seen a different side to her today; a funny little side. Yes, he'll admit that she has been a bit quiet since Penny Valentine died – but surely that had to be expected. But today was different: it was basically silence. It was worrying and it was what prompted him to do what he dad done next.

"Hey." He approached the newly made-up Frieda Petrenko now looking every bit herself.

"Oh, hi." The Ukrainian doctor glanced up from the file she was flicking aimlessly through.

"Listen do you fancy a drink?"

"Why?" He couldn't help but smile as he saw her eye him suspiciously.

"Hey, there's nothing sinister in it – I just thought you might feel like a drink?" She nodded silently, until Sunil walked by smirking in Michael's direction.

"He won't be there?" Her voice was suddenly was suddenly filled with the same lack of confidence from earlier.

Though he was quick to reassure her: "No. Just me and you tonight. Sorry about him earlier."

"Is okay." She smiled at his words before turning back to her file.

"So I can buy you a drink then?" He glanced at the doctor who was thoroughly absorbed in whatever she was reading.

"I suppose." Yet, she never looked up.

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><p><strong>2.<strong>

**Post Rebound. **

Penny Valentine's death had caused a strange bond between them, somehow. She'd been there when he had got the news: they'd found her body amongst the rubble. He has known that she knew from the moment he looked at her when the phone call ended, even before he told her. When he finally forced himself to say the words – he'd watched the look on her face, in her eyes, as her entire world seemed to collapse on top of itself. He really didn't know what to do when the bag that only moments ago was over her shoulder slipped to the ground. He can't even remember what he did.

It was the same look that was in her eyes now, as she tried to understand how it was possible to celebrate Penny's life, when she had only just died.

"To Penny." Despite the barely concealed emotion he was relieved when she spoke, finally.

Then he realised that it was moments like those that meant he was not surprised when, less than two minutes later, he found himself cradling her in her arms, rocking her softly; as she finally accepted Penny's death and let the first, of many, tears slip down her cheeks.

Whispering soothing words into her hair, he gently took the glass from her and placed it back on the bar.

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><p><strong>3.<strong>

**Post Boy Valentine, Girl Valentine.**

He walked out the of the morgue and headed in the one direction that seemed right: AAU.

Opening the office, he and realised that he was not the only one to seek refuge there.

"Okay to come in?" His voice was horse and choked with emotion. The huddled figure, however, simply nodded, before going back to staring at nothing.

However before he could move any further into the office Mary-Claire touched his arms softly and spoke: "She won't speak." It was all the tearful Irish nurse had to say. Michael just nodded in understanding as he entered the office, he sat next to the junior doctor and gently pulled her into his arms; an act he never imagined he would ever do. He felt her head fall against his shoulder as she spoke for the first time since she knew of Penny's death: "How was she?"

"Peaceful." While he wasn't sure what made him chose that particular description; he could not deny its truth.

If anyone was watching them, they would have, undoubtedly, noticed his relief when Frieda finally relaxed into his arms; them both lost in thought about a certain optimistic red-head.

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><p><strong>4.<strong>

"Is this a Penny Valentine thing?" He spoke as walked away from her; she was being odd today.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He turned in time to see the confusion etch across her face and replied: "The cheeriness?"

She arched an eyebrow in reply as she shot back her own retort: "Aren't I allowed to be cheery?" She barely managed to restrain the smile that threatened to dance across her purple lips.

"Not unless there is a very, very good reason – though those are your rules and not mine." He prodded her arm playfully as he said the last word.

Giving into temptation she smiled up at him, as he placed a hand on the wall at either side of her; essentially trapping her, before pressing his lips to her cheek. Again, she raised an eyebrow, though this time without words.

"You're a little strange, you know that?"

Ignoring his question, she shot back with one of her own: "Why would this be a Penny thing? What does that even mean?" She lifted her green eyes up at meet his; yet she still remained trapped between his arms.

"She mentioned something about a Good Mood Frieda once, do I ever get to meet her?" He shifted himself closer to her as he watched her settle on her answer.

"Only if you are very, very good…"

"Really..?" He breathed the word out as he closed the gap between them capturing her lips with his.

"What about now?" He smirked down at her.

"We'll see, now I believe we are to treat patients." She whispered softly, as she pushed past him taking the file from a clearly confused Mary-Claire – who was having difficulty forming words yet looked like she spontaneously combust at any moment.

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><p><strong>5.<strong>

"Flowers?" She stood hand on hip in the doorway of the AAU office.

"You got them then?"

"You can't leave flowers on ward." She stated simply and he could no longer contain the smile which graced his face.

"Should've known you'd be awkward!" With that he moved from behind the desk and approached her.

"They're pink!" She stated accusingly as he laughed at her.

"Don't you like pink, angry Barbie?"

She smiled at the long forgotten nickname before hitting back with her own playful retort: "Well, it doesn't really go with image, American."

"Oh right, so if I took them home you'd put them in a vase?" He spoke as those the realisation had suddenly hit him, taking one of her hands.

"Perhaps!" Her eyes flashed with a playful glint of mischief as he pulled her into the office closing the door behind them and she reached across him to close the blinds.

###

"Domestic?" The questioning voice of Mary-Claire reached Chrissie's ears.

"Not sure." The blonde spoke as she reached over the desk to take the card which was placed in the flowers which sat on the nurse's station. She smirked as she showed to the Irish nurse with a roll of her eyes: _'Sorry, I think. Michael x.'_

"Ah, Malick, do you know what's going on then?" Chrissie smiled sweetly at the doctor who simply tapped his nose before walking away.

###

"So if I've not done anything wrong then what is it?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Yeah?" He breathed deeply before turning to face her and gently placing a hand across her, still flat, stomach.

Then all very suddenly events of that morning made sense: "Does Malick know?"

"He guessed."

"Well I never."

"I am aware, anyway, do you mind?" Her eyes remained trained to the floor as she spoke.

"How long have you know?"

"A while. You said you had, had your children and this wasn't really planned and - " He cut her off quickly, cupping her cheek as he began to speak softly.

"If I told you, Mrs Spence, that I wanted to leave this office and go out there and tell the whole ward, how would you feel?"

"Shall we go then?" She smiled and offered him her hand as he gently pulled through the office door, only stopping once to sweetly kiss her lips, leading her onto the ward.

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><p><strong>6. <strong>

"A balloon?" She raised a sceptical eyebrow at the proffered gift.

"I just thought it was something she'd do…" He shrugged his response, unsure if he was saying the right thing.

"Penny?"

"Yeah."

"Probably. So why?" She turned her attention back to the purple item in his hand.

"Thought you might miss it in a strange sort of way."

"Perhaps, a bit. Thank-you." She moved towards him, slightly, in order to take the purple balloon from his hand, and pressed a gently kiss to his cheek.

As the balloon transferred hands, his now free hand shot to her waist preventing to from moving pulling her closer. Their eyes locked for the few seconds that it took for his other hand to reach the back of her neck and somehow press their lips together.

The balloon floated upwards towards the ceiling; forgotten, when her hands found his hair and she responded to the kiss. He had her pushed back against the lockers when hey heard the door squeak – indicating that the already closed door had been closed, provoking them to finally part.

Gently resting his forehead against hers, he whispered softly in her ear: "Happy Birthday, Frieda!"

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><p><strong>I have more I'll find the time to write them up if people are interested. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**So, it provides a lovely distraction for when I get bored… **

**Holby City and all its staff still belong to the BBC. No copyright infringement intended.**

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><p><strong>1. <strong>

**Basketball.**

She watched him with an eyebrow raised, arms folded across her chest; as alone in the car park, he bounced a basketball over the hoop he had set up.

"You know, patients don't diagnose themselves?

His head snapped up and turned in the direction of the familiar accent, as he caught the ball in his hands and stopped his actions.

"I'm on a break, what's your excuse?" He replied to her as he walked across the car park to meet her.

"I'm looking for 'the handsome doctor' that told Mrs Willis he would be back in ten minutes about an hour ago." He smirked at her, as he watched her light the cigarette in her hand.

"Or outside smoking?"

"I'm killing two birds with one stone, I believe?"

"Yes, you are. Anyway is everything okay on the ward?"

"Malick is there; I'm sure he'll page you if he needs you."

"In that case…" He grabbed her hand and pulled her back across the car park, somewhere amongst it he heard her voice question 'what exactly he thought he was doing' but he never answered.

He smirked as she sat down on the kerb beside the basket ball and didn't object when he returned to bouncing the wall towards the hoop before shooting. She did however, object, when he bounced the ball in front of her - well at least he thought the raise of her eyebrows, as she stubbed the cigarette out, was an objection. She caught the ball between her hands and smiled softly, somewhat shyly at him, as he made to retrieve, but she swerved away from his hands.

Then, somehow, all too suddenly, his hands were on her waist and hers had found his hair; as their lips crashed together. They could have been there for a minute or it could've been ten; neither was entirely sure and neither noticed the gentle bouncing as the ball slowly made its way to the other side of the car park.

It was a sudden voice that broke them apart: "Don't your pagers work? When you're quite finished!"

She managed to flick her less secure than usual hair around her face as she looked away from him and heard Michael speak: "Malick, it wasn't…"

"It…" She tried and failed to find words, purely because she was still attempting to work out what it either was or wasn't.

"Leave it!" They glanced at each other, as the registrar put his brown hat on his head, and walked back towards the hospital.

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><p><strong>2. <strong>

**Teddy.**

"Who's this?" He waved the offending item over her face, as she lay beside him, barely restraining the smile that danced across his lips.

She glanced at the multiply repaired teddy that was now in Michael's hands and sleepily murmured his name: "Olek".

The small smile which had been plastered on to Michael since he found the bear, turned into a smirk as he glanced at the raven haired woman "Oh, so you do have a soft side after all?"

"Don't we have to be at work soon?" She replied calmer, ignoring his question.

He made to reply when she reached across him at took the bear from his hands, sitting him softly on the nightstand.

"I think he is much too young to see what is about to happen…" His American accent whispered softly in her ear as she turned to look at him judgementally.

"What? Us getting up and getting ready for work? I think we set perfectly good example." She had a hint of a smile in her voice as she shift closer to the edge of the bed.

"You'll be a very good mother, clearly."

The panic alarm hit and she turned very quickly, making her head spin, to face him: "Who said anything about me being a mother?"

"Don't you want to?" This was a serious conversation and he knew it; why they were having it two hours before their shift was due to start was beyond him, but he had this funny feeling he had been the one to provoke it.

"Do you?" Defence, it was what she knew best and at this moment in time; she had to use it.

"You never answered the question?" He raised an amused eyebrow; inwardly, he wondered why he was pushing the issue.

"I'm scared." It some time for her to even acknowledge that he had spoken again, the brutal honestly in what she said frightened her; she wasn't used to making admissions like that.

"Of what?" He turned to face her, wrapping an arm around her as the concern spread across ever feature of her face.

"Not being good enough." Her voice was low, she didn't really sound like Frieda anymore.

"You'll always be good enough." He didn't actually know what else to say as he watched a small smile flicker across her lips for a second.

"So, when?" At her words Michael reached across the bed, turning Olek face down, before pinning her to the bed and smile fondly at her.

"Why don't we start trying right now?" An uncharacteristic giggle - which he loves - escaped her lips, before he attached his to hers.

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><p><strong>3.<strong>

**Oliver.**

"You okay?" He glanced up at the naturally pale skin tone of Frieda Petrenko as she reached across the table for her make-up bag.

"Not really." Her voice was shaky, and she winced as the smell of coffee - which was sat on the desk - made her feel nauseous.

"Hangover?" He smirked at her teasingly, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"No."

"What's wrong?" He failed to keep the concern from his voice as he looked up at the F1 who offered no explanation. "You're not pregnant, are you?" Again, he was met with silence. "You are, aren't you? Does Oliver know?" He placed a kindly hand over hers, as she pointedly gazed at the floor. Upon receiving no acknowledgement he tried a different tactic: "How pregnant?"

Her fear filled eyes, finally, snapped up to meet his concerned ones, as she replied: "Ten weeks." Her voice was soft when she answered and suddenly she found her knees giving way and she stumbled backwards into the seat behind her, Michael's hand still holding her own, as he moved to sit down next to her.

"He doesn't know?" She shook her softly and looked away from him, as tears filled her eyes. Despite her attempts to hide them, he noticed and squeezed her hand reassuringly "Why?"

"I don't know. It wasn't planned, it, we, weren't anything serious." She attempted to smile softly, but less than successful.

He nodded in understanding before he tried to understand how she was feeling: "Do you know what you want to do?"

"Yes, I think so…" Her voice trailed off, as he looked at her questioningly,

"You have to tell him, he deserves to know."

"I know…" She returned to looking at the carpet as she spoke "…It's just, isn't it a bit soon, you know, after…?" She looked up at him again, hoping he'd understand.

"After Penny?" She nodded by way of answer and he continued "Surely, it's the best time, give him something else to think about - but not something to make him forget?"

"I want to keep this baby Michael; I want to be its mum. I just don't know how he would react." Absentmindedly, her hand touched her still flat stomach affectionately; while her free hand covered her eyes, as she succumbed, finally, to tears. She rested her forehead on his shoulder, as he rubbed her back comfortably while assuring her that everything would be okay.

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><p><strong>4. <strong>

**Pre-Rebound.**

She took a long drag on a cigarette, it was something she barely done anymore, but today it was required; as she waited by the hospital entrance.

"Bad habit!" His American accent voiced an obvious statement.

"Not today, Michael." Her voice was quiet, far quieter than he had ever heard before, when she spoke.

"You okay?" His concern was apparent; he'd already phoned her four times that morning, as though afraid that she might not turn up. He watched as she stubbed the cigarette out against the grainy wall of the hospital, as he waited on some form of an answer.

"No." It was all it took; as the first sob escaped her lips and her hands covered her face as her body shook with tears. All he could do was wrap his arms around her shaking form, as she fell into his embrace, he lead them to the picnic tables on the grass.

Eventually, her tears subsided, yet the remained sat in the same embrace in a comfortable silence until it was broken by Frieda: "I can't do it Michael."

"Yes…" He paused to wipe the stains of eyeliner from her cheeks, before continuing; "…you can, for Penny. Come on, I'll even hold your hand." He stood up and gently took her hand as if to prove just how serious he was.

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><p><strong>Only four this time, but yeah; <strong>

**Considering a couple of things; making this about more characters/couples/friendships/what ever & extending any of these probably into longer one-shots if anyone is interesting in a particular one. **

**Anny.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I like Frieda and Michael; they're cute in a strange sort of way. There will probably be more, in fact that's probably a certainty. **

**I own nothing, not Holby General Hospital or it's staff. No Copyright infringement intended. **

**P.s. Is it just me, or did the hospital used to be called Holby City instead of Holby General? Anyhow**.

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><p><strong>1.<strong>

**Rain **

"Don't you have an umbrella?" He raised one eyebrow in amusement at the Ukrainian doctor; whose quirks he had come to accept and love.

"I like the rain…" This small quirk was just a bit too odd for him to accept so easily.

"You'll catch a cold." He reprimanded, not entirely seriously.

"I'm a doctor I'll get better…" She smiled cheerfully, an unusual sight, at him as she made her away to the door of the hospital.

"I let you walk home on one condition: I get to come and I bring an umbrella." He chased after her, as the doors opened and she stepped outside.

"Defeats the purpose Michael!" Her voice was strong as she spoke not even bothering to look back over her shoulder as him as she continued to walk.

Reaching her and grabbing her hand to get her attention, he bargained again with her: "Oh, and we have to go to the bar first."

###

Several hours and several drinks later, it was finally decided: home time.

"It's too late and too dark to walk anywhere, I'm phoning a taxi!" He shot her his best arrogant yet dazzling smile as he began to dial the number.

"This! This was your plan all along." She muttered in mock outrage as she finished her drink.

"I'm clever, you see…"

"You care about my health." She stated matter of factly as he ended his call to the taxi company.

"No, I just need you on the ward tomorrow." He replied without hesitation but did smirk to show he was not being entirely honest.

"How kind."

"So I'm told." He took her arm and walked with her to the door where they could wait on their taxi.

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><p><strong>2.<strong>

**In the past. (Probably early series 11)**

He'd always been more than a little curious about Darwin's night sister; she was odd, granted, bit in an intriguing that had instantly attracted him to her. So much so, he often found himself making excuses to be on Darwin whenever he was on call, just to see if she was always so alluring and mysterious. He was fully aware that she must have been around fifteen years his junior, but that was a minor issue; his marriage, however, that was a much bigger factor.

"Ah! Mr. Spence, can I help?" Her accented voice made it's over to him as he stepped on to the ward, surveying the quiet of it.

"Yes, enquires about the GS patient, I transferred earlier, thank you sister…" He trailed off when he realised he had never taken the time to learn her name.

"Frieda." She informed him with a small smile.

"Frieda."

"Ah, Mrs Willis, yes Mrs Beauchamp and Mr Strachan operated this afternoon. She seems to be doing well…" She paused to raise a questioning eyebrow at the way he looked at her, before continuing: "…I think, her notes?" Michael took the proffered folder and watched her as she returned to the nurse's station.

He did resist his urge to join her there, what with it being gone three in the morning; he had nothing else to do. "So is it always nights?" She jumped in alarm at his unannounced reappearance at her side, hand clutching the counter in front of her, softly muttering words in her native language.

"Um, yes, is much less complicated." He nodded in acknowledgement, whilst showing off his best smile.

"You work on Connie Beauchamp's ward, is it ever not complicated?" He smiled at her subtle as she turned away from her paper work to look up at his question.

"Usually, when I do not have to explain why GS consultants are on her ward, it is not so bad." Though he could tell she was only joking, the complete seriousness in her tone was one of her little quirks which made her all the more interesting.

"Is that so… So if I go, and Connie does not ask questions, can I buy you breakfast?" Flashing her, his winning smile, he watched as the bunches she had pulled her hair into, turned away from him, and quickly to the computer as she heard the notification of an incoming email.

"I believe you have a wife and children to get home to…" She never glanced from the computer, her tome never changed; but in that moment, he knew she was going to be a challenge, she paused for a moment to acknowledge the sound of his pager "…and I believe that was your pager."

He nodded his head only slightly as he made to move from the nurses station and head back towards Keller when she spoke again: "Oh, and Mr. Spence I know everything…"

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><p><strong>3. <strong>

**Post Boy Valentine, Girl Valentine II**

He stood in reception when he ended his phone call; nothing seemed real, until a sobbing Frieda Petrenko shocked him back to reality. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they walked towards the automatic doors of the hospital; neither entirely sure what was happening or where they were going, but were both more content with the knowledge, via Malick, that Oliver was doing okay.

She moved her head, slightly, to allow it to fall against his shoulder and rest there as they stepped outside - automatically pausing when they reached the spot where they found out Penny had died. She lifted her head to allow her eyes to meet his, as he tilted his own downwards to offer her a small, half smile, in a vain attempt of comforting her. The result, however, was their lips meeting and locking, somewhat forcefully, as his arms hooked themselves around her lower back and her hands found the back of neck; regardless of the fact that their colleagues could, more than likely, see them.

It was her who broke them apart; he felt her breathe as she mumbled against his lips: "No, Michael, we shouldn't be…" The moment they had broken apart her head was in her hands and he wasn't sure if she'd, yet again, succumbed to tears or it was guilt or embarrassment; what it was didn't bother him, he just took her arm and gently guided her to the door, in silence.

Once outside, she gently linked her arm through his as they walked; they walked, not in any such direction to begin with, then eventually they had made their way back to her flat. As she opened the door, once again, their lips crashed together and never parted as he kicked the door closed behind them - hearing the lock click - as she somehow steered them into her bedroom.

He backed her down onto her bed, and attempted, unsuccessfully, to remove her top without breaking the contact of their lips, as she tumbled onto the purple bed. Contact was broken and clothing was removed as he joined her; they both knew that just for tonight they needed each other - the comfort and the contact.

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><p><strong>Okay, so it seems my rambles are getting longer so there is less in each chapter. Just shout if you've got an idea for them or anyone else, willing to see what I can do! <strong>

**Anny,**


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